


Assassin's Creed Prompt Requests & One Shots

by Sazula



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Friendship, Humor, Multi, One Shot Collection, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:57:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6307504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sazula/pseuds/Sazula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Assassin's Creed one shots and prompt requests - some may be NSFW</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Normal people don't have a basement stockpiled full of weapons: Modern Team

If anyone were to ask you if you had been nervous right now, you'd have vehemently denied it. You were an _Assassin_ , for crying out loud, being assigned to a new team wasn't something to be nervous about.

Unless that team happened to be the one who had saved the planet from a devastating solar flare. These guys were practically _legends_.

You'd heard the rumours about what had happened, had seen the sky change above you; it had actually been a beautiful sight. Officially it had been labelled as an ‘unexplained natural phenomenon’ by the scientific community, and the world seemed to accept that. If that was the truth, however, you wouldn't be wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans as you headed into the room where your new team were awaiting your arrival.

“Hey! You must be the newbie!”

You gave a small wave and a timid smile as three separate pairs of eyes focused on you. The woman who had announced your arrival strolled over, a grin on her face as she pulled her headphones down to rest around her neck. “I'm Rebecca, but you can call me Becs,” she announced, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “That's Shaun over at the desk, and Desmond is on the couch.” She peered at you curiously. “You alright, there? You seem a little nervous.”

You cleared your throat. “N-no, I'm fine, really,” you insisted.

“Don't worry, we're all perfectly normal,” Desmond said from his seated position, tossing you a wink.

“I don't know about that. Normal people don't have a basement stockpiled full of weapons,” Shaun called over his shoulder. You couldn't help laugh at the image that formed in your mind.

“Full of them, huh? Sounds like my kind of party,” you laughed, your nerves slowly dissipating. You were going to like it here.

 


	2. One Thing That Scares You: Modern!ShayxReader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 'The reader got horrified by the movie in cinema, so he/she took the unknown X’s hand' with Shay Cormac.

This was a really bad idea.

Yes, you had promised yourself to do one thing that scared you every day, but going to watch a horror film that was no doubt going to terrify the crap out of you was probably not the way to start.

More than once you had lifted your hand up in front of your face, pretending you were doing it to scratch your brow or rub at the corner of your eye rather than because you didn't want to see what was happening on screen. The sensible thing for you to do would be to leave before you got so freaked out you'd be sleeping with the light on for the next year, but you were stubbornly determined to see this through. _I can't back out on the first day!_

Suddenly, an unearthly roar blasted through the speakers as a creature that could only be described as ‘nightmare inducing’ filled the screen. You screamed, along with several others in the room, slapping one hand over your eyes. _Screw pretending!_

It took you a few seconds to realise what your other hand was doing; you had only gone and grasped the hand of the man next to you, holding it with a vice-like grip.

You turned to face the person the hand was attached to, wide-eyed and embarrassed. To his credit he didn't seem angry or upset that a stranger was clinging to him, just a little bemused. His eyebrow quirked upwards as you looked at him.

“I'm so sorry!” you whispered, letting go of him (a little reluctantly, if you were honest. He was _cute_ ).

“Don't worry yourself about it, lass,” he replied with a smile, his voice a gorgeous Irish brogue. _Cute_ _ **and**_ _Irish? Even better!_ You returned his grin with a one of your own, before almost leaping out of your seat as another horrific roar sounded. You heard a deep chuckle at your side and you turned to glare at Mr Irish. He simply smirked at you and held his hand out. “Do you want to hold my hand again?”

“It's not funny!” you huffed, a giggle escaping as you nudged him with your elbow. He winked at you before turning back to the film. You did the same, beginning to think that coming to see this film wasn't such a bad idea after all...

 


	3. Chained: Shaun Hastings x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 'The reader and X are chained together for hours, in which they are searching for the key' with Shaun Hastings.

“This is definitely one of the weirdest situations I have ever been in,” you muttered, casting your eyes about the dimly lit room.

“I’m with you on that one,” Shaun agreed from behind you. “Any idea how we’re getting out of it?”

You gave an experimental wiggle, testing your range of movement. “We’re chained up pretty well. I think the only way out will involve us finding the key to the lock,” you replied, tilting your head towards the large padlock resting against Shaun's leg.

It was supposed to be a straightforward mission; you and Shaun had been sent to retrieve any information Abstergo had on the location of the Shard of Eden once owned by Ratonhnhaké:ton, to ensure its location remained secure. Unfortunately you had both walked into an ambush, and were now chained together, back to back in the basement of the facility.

“I suppose we’re lucky they didn’t kill us on sight,” Shaun said, sounding thoughtful.

You snorted, turning your head to look at Shaun as best you could. “Yeah, ‘lucky’. Instead they’ve chained us up and left us on the floor of a dingy basement to await the arrival of that bastard Otso Berg.” A sigh pushed its way past your lips. “I'm actually surprised they used a goddamn chain to keep us here rather than something a little more technical.”

“I was thinking the exact same thing,” Shaun responded, his tone amused.

“They do say idiots don't differ,” you teased, unable to resist indulging in your favourite activity.

“I'd be more offended if you weren't also referring to yourself as an idiot,” Shaun shot back with a small chuckle.

“Worth it.” You shifted a little in your restricted position. “We need to try and move, my arse is going numb here.”

You felt Shaun's head turn in your direction, no doubt with a smirk on his face. “Don't worry, I'll rub it better for you.”

“Now is not the time for your poor attempts at flirting,” you said, trying to sound serious despite the grin that was tugging at the corners of your mouth. “We need to get out of here.” _But how?_ A cursory glance around the room told you that there was only one way in and out; no doubt it would be guarded. They’d taken your weapons, but that just meant you’d have to be creative with your attacks until you could procure one of their own guns to use against them. Before you could even think too much about escaping the room, however, you needed to work out how you could get to your feet when your hands were bound in front of you

“Alright, Shaun, listen carefully,” you ordered. “When I say, I want you to push your feet into the ground as much as you can whilst using my back as leverage and I'll do the same. With any luck we'll be able to move into a standing position. Make sense?”

“I think so. Push down with my feet and against you with my back.”

“Exactly. On three: one...two...three!” You pushed your weight downwards into your feet, leaning against Shaun for support as you did. Slowly, and with a fair bit of effort, the two of you raised up off of the floor, making sure to move carefully as you both manoeuvred into a standing position.

“Christ, when I said I wouldn't mind you pressed against me that was _not_ what I had in mind!” Shaun grumbled as he caught his breath.

“Oh, will you _behave_ , Hastings!” you giggled, elbowing him. “As I said, not the time!” You gave your hands a shake to see if the chains had loosened at all now you were standing. They had a little, but nowhere near enough for you to wriggle your wrists free. “Any chance you can get your hands free?”

“No, sorry,” Shaun replied. “But I can reach the padlock. If we can find the key I might be able to unlock it.”

“Assuming there _is_ a key,” you huffed. “For all we know they're just going to leave us chained up when they kill us.”

“Ever the optimist, aren't you?” Shaun joked. “There has to be one somewhere. Knowing these morons they've probably left one nearby for convenience.”

“I don't think we can call them morons anymore, given our current predicament,” you said, looking about to see if there was any hints as to where the key would be. “Ooh, I think I’ve got something. Are you ready to get moving?”

“Ready and raring to go,” he confirmed.

“Good. Head left.”

“Got it.”

You started to move, only to stagger as Shaun headed in the opposite direction. “No, I said left!”

“This is left!” Shaun hissed.

“Shit, sorry, I meant _my_ left,” you clarified. Without even looking at him you could imagine the expression on his face.

“You should have said so!” he spluttered indignantly.

“Alright, I said I was sorry!” You took a calming breath before continuing. “Head _my_ left.”

With that bit of clarification you both slowly made your way across the room, stopping once you had reached what appeared to be a large, metal locker. Shifting your position so you were facing it, you managed to open the door so you could look over its contents.

“Unbelieveable!” you gasped. “I can see three different keys, and they all look promising. It's got to be a trick, surely it can’t be this easy to find it?”

“Like I said, they’re morons,” Shaun sniffed disdainfully. “Come on, shimmy around so I can try them.” The pair of you moved clockwise until Shaun was facing the locker and you were watching the door. The room was silent, save for the occasional clink of metal as Shaun moved to test the keys.

“Got it!” Shaun cried triumphantly, dropping the padlock to the floor and twisting himself free. “Thank God, I was starting to lose feeling in my arms.” He helped you out of the heavy chain before moving over to the door and pressing his ear against it.

“Hear anything?” you whispered, carefully setting the chain down so as not to make too much unnecessary noise.

“Footsteps. Sounds like it’s just one guard patrolling.”

“Easily dealt with,” you smirked, walking over to Shaun. “Ready to go?”

“As I’ll ever be, beautiful,” he said, winking at you.

You rolled your eyes at him, unable to keep the smile from your face. “Save it for when we get back to the hideout,” you scolded playfully. “Then you can flirt with me all you like.”

“Is that a promise?”

You pecked a quick kiss to his lips, snickering as his eyes widened almost comically. “Maybe I’ll let you do more than flirt...”

 


	4. Late: Modern!Ezio x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 'The reader uses X as a fake-boyfriend/husband to get away from an interested person' with Ezio.

Checking your watch, you tutted when you saw the time. “He’s late again,” you muttered, swirling your drink around in its glass. You should have really been used to his tardiness by now considering how long you and Ezio had been meeting up like this, yet you still held on to that little bit of hope that this week would be the week he’d arrive on time.

The two of you had met at a mutual friend's house party whilst you were both at university. You’d only fuzzy memories of the meeting due to being more than a little tipsy; Ezio had accidentally spilt his drink over your shirt whilst attempting to drunkenly impress someone and had promptly offered you his. You’d accepted, giggling as he got stuck trying to remove it, and remembered nothing else until the next morning when you had woken up still dressed in his shirt with a pounding headache and his phone number scrawled on your arm.

Returning his shirt had turned into him taking you out for coffee to apologise again, which had lead to a firm friendship developing. Now, since graduating six years ago, you and Ezio always made sure to meet every Friday evening to catch up over a few drinks, with him always arriving late.

Despite what people thought there had never been anything more than friendship between you and Ezio. Yes, he tended to flirt with you now and then but he did that with practically every woman he spoke to; it was just the way he was. Yet his flirting had recently started becoming more suggestive than before, causing your heart to start beating a little faster with each word. Was there anything behind it, or was it Ezio being his usual self?

Honestly, did you even want to know the answer?

Sighing and pushing those thoughts from your mind, you lifted your glass to your lips and swallowed down what remained inside. _Come on, Auditore, I’m getting bored here._

“Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart?”

You jumped a little, startled by the sudden appearance of the stranger at your side. You smiled tightly at him just to be polite. “No, thank you.”

“Aw, come on love,” he drawled, leaning a little closer. You could smell the whiskey on his breath as he spoke, it mixing with the pungent scent of his aftershave. “Just one drink.”

“Really. I’m fine,” you insisted, shifting your chair away from him a little. _Please go away, you drunken creep._

He remained undeterred. “It seems a shame to let someone as gorgeous as yourself be here alone,” he purred. “Let me keep you company.”

“I’m not alone, I’m waiting for my boyfriend,” you blurted in an attempt to get him to stop bothering you. “He’ll be here any minute-oh, he’s here!”

As if you’d willed him to appear, the door to the bar opened and Ezio walked in. You almost knocked your chair to the ground as you sprang up eagerly and headed over to him.

“ _Mi dispiace, bella_ , I-” he began, but was cut off as you pressed your lips to his. You had to make this look convincing, after all, that’s why you were kissing him. Not because you’d secretly been wanting to do this for months. Not at all.

Ezio didn’t react for a moment. His eyes were wide with shock and his hands hovered at his sides as you kissed him but it didn’t take long for him to recover his senses, his hands slipping around your waist as he returned your kiss with such an intensity it made your toes curl. _Oh, God, this is fantastic!_ Your eyes fluttered closed as a soft moan escaping your chest as Ezio’s silky lips glided across your own, his fingers kneading the base of your spine.

“ _Tesoro_ , I did not think you were interested,” he murmured, his breath ghosting across your skin as he moved to trail kisses along your jaw. “What changed your mind?”

“I’ll explain later,” you breathed, feeling lightheaded. “Shall we get a drink or did you want to get out of here?”

“Do you even need to ask?” he purred, already tugging you out of the building.

You’d never complain about him being late again.

 


	5. Fight Club: Jacob x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watching Jacob fight is definitely a nerve-racking experience.

The smell of blood and sweat in the air was terribly pungent, and when put together with the shouts and yells of the audience it was an almost overwhelming experience. Still, you'd promised Jacob you'd come along to the Fight Club and watch him in action, so you weren't about to leave.

He'd already made it through several rounds against some pretty impressive opponents and now it was time for him to face the last of them; a group of giant, hulking brutes. Your heart pounded in your chest at the sight of them and your eyes widened in worry.

“Jacob,” you called over the din as Topping began collecting the final bets. “Jacob!”

He heard you shout and swaggered over to your position at the edge of the ring with that cocky smirk you knew oh so well plastered on his face. “You called?”

“Please don't fight them,” you begged as you gripped his forearm. “You've won enough money already, you don't need to try and win more.”

He simply chuckled at your words. “It's not about the money, love! It's about the fight,” he said, a fire blazing in his eyes. You opened your mouth to protest but Jacob silenced you by quickly pecking a kiss to your lips and winking at you before heading back to the centre of the ring.

You watched the final round through your fingers, wincing each time a punch was landed either by Jacob or one of his opponents. Finally, after what seemed like an age had passed, Topping was declaring Jacob the winner. You lowered your hands as the crowed cheered to see them both standing proudly; Topping was raising Jacob’s arm into the air to the approval of the room and Jacob was grinning in victory, despite his swollen eye and bloody lip. He made his way over to you, limping slightly, and his grin grew wider at your disapproving expression.

“I'm never coming to watch you again, Frye, I feel as if I have aged ten years!” you scolded, helping him exit the ring and head away from the crowds and into the private rooms at the back. “Come on, let's get you fixed up.”

“You're so good to me, love,” he hummed, hissing slightly as he sat down. You tutted at him as you shut the door and fetched the bowl of warm water and cloth that was waiting.

“Someone has to take care of you, especially as you refuse to do so yourself,” you said, wetting the cloth and dabbing it gently against a gash on his forehead.

He brought his hands up to your hips as you tended to his wounds, squeezing affectionately and bringing a smile to your face. “And I'm very grateful,” he murmured, giving you a lopsided grin that made your stomach flip. “Once we get back to the train I plan on showing you just how grateful I am…”

 


	6. Late Night Craving: Juhani Otso Berg x Templar!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 'I don't care that it's 2:00am, we need pie' with Berg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kind of links to 'A Proper Apology' but it can be read as a standalone.

Laying on your back and staring at the ceiling, you huffed in irritation. This position wasn't comfortable either.

“For God's sake,” you muttered into the moonlit room, heaving yourself onto your side and glaring at the figure laid out next to you. It was alright for him, he didn't have this problem; he'd drifted off almost as soon as his head had hit the pillow. Then again, he wasn't mere weeks away from giving birth like you were. Damn, this position was even worse. You gave a frustrated groan, pushing yourself up off the mattress to see if you'd feel any better laying on your other side.

“Do you plan on doing that all night?” the sleepy voice of your husband suddenly asked, catching your attention.

“Sod off, Juhani,” you griped, giving up on sleep and sitting upright in the bed. “I'd like to see how well you'd manage with an 8lb watermelon strapped to your front.”

He shifted so he could look at you, propping himself up on his elbow and placing a hand on your bump. “I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“Have the baby for me?” you offered with a grin, gently stroking Juhani’s cheek. “You'd be doing me a massive favour.”

Juhani laughed, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. “Unfortunately, _kultaseni_ , I do not think that will be possible.”

You hummed. “Well, in that case, you can go out and get me a blueberry pie,” you announced.

Juhani gave you an perplexed look, his brow furrowing. “Really, now?” You nodded in response. “But it’s two o'clock in the morning!”

“I don't care that it's 2:00am, we need pie,” you insisted, gesturing to your rounded belly whilst pouting and giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. “Come on, _rakkaani_ , please?”

You could see his resolve weakening with each passing second. “Oh, alright, I'll go and get you one,” he finally mumbled as he climbed out of bed, turning on the light before rummaging around in his closet to look for something to wear. “You're lucky I love you.”

A delighted squeal escaped your lips, your whole body excited at the prospect of the delicious dessert. “Thank you, _rakkaani_!” you sang gleefully. “Don't worry, I won't tell the rest of Sigma Team that the Big Bad Berg is really a giant softie.”

Juhani chuckled as he pulled on a pair of jeans. “I don't think they would believe you even if you did.”

“No, I suppose not,” you agreed, admiring the flex and ripple of the muscles in his back as he pulled on a shirt. You were definitely a lucky woman. “Still, I’ll always know the truth.”

“I'm only a softie for you, _kultaseni_ ,” he said, winking at you. “I wouldn't do this for anyone else.”

“I know. I'll make it up to you,” you promised, leaning over to where he had sat down on the bed and pecking a kiss to his cheek.

“If I remember correctly, making something up to me is what got us in this position in the first place,” he stated, raising an eyebrow at you and giving your bump another gentle caress.

“Hey, you were the one who got all ‘Master Templar’ on me and demanded an apology,” you huffed. “Besides, I seem to remember you enjoying yourself rather thoroughly.”

“Oh I did, very much so,” he murmured, stealing a kiss from you before standing up and heading out of the bedroom. “Don't go falling asleep before I get back,” he called over his shoulder, the front door closing softly behind him.

“Fat chance of that happening,” you said to yourself, cocooning yourself in a blanket. “I think Mini Berg is going to keep me up all night!”

 


	7. Undercover: Desmond Miles x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Explain it to me again - why do we need to pretend to be married?” with Desmond.

“Explain it to me again - _why_ do we need to pretend to be married?”

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes skyward and sigh in exasperation, instead choosing to focus on tying Desmond's tie whilst taking a calming breath.

“I've told you three times already, Des,” you lectured. “Do I really need to tell you again?”

“I just want to make sure I'm understanding it 100% so I don't mess anything up and make you mad,” he insisted, grinning at you. “You're pretty scary when you're angry.”

“I am _not_ ,” you huffed, adjusting the red silk of his tie before taking a step back. “There, all done. You scrub up pretty well, Miles.” It was strange seeing him dressed in the obsidian coloured suit when you were so used to seeing him in his favourite white hoodie and a pair of jeans. It was as if he were a completely different person - something that would come in handy for the evening ahead.

“I'll go over everything one more time,” you said, looking Desmond in the eye. “We're going undercover at some Abstergo charity event, and the people we're pretending to be are a married couple. Our mission is to eliminate Eric Nightingale, Vidic’s replacement, sabotaging any plans they have for their genetic memory research. Get all that?”

Desmond nodded. “Yes, boss,” he replied with a wink. “Or should that be ‘ _yes_ , _dear_ ’?”

You swatted his arm lightly with the clutch bag in your hand. “Behave yourself, Des!” you scolded. “So, how do I look?” The dress you were wearing was a deep, rich burgundy colour that just skimmed the floor thanks to the heels you had on. The neckline was a little more plunging than you would usually like, but you figured if Eric Nightingale was too busy staring at your cleavage he wouldn't see Desmond coming until it was too late.

You gave a little twirl, and Desmond let out a low whistle of approval. “Very nice!”

You smiled, pleased your efforts had been worth it. “Glad to hear you approve,” you chirped. “Come on, let's get going.”

 


	8. Thinking Of You: Shaun Hastings x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It hurts being the one left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose you could file this under 'Angst'...

I think about you all the time. I remember every moment that passed between us.

I think about when we first met, when we were both starting out as junior professors, nervous yet eager to face what lay out before us. We'd eat lunch together, a bond forming between us over those first few weeks. I remember the way your eyes would light up as we talked about History, the way you'd make me laugh with your dislike of the French Revolution and how you'd try to talk me out of my avid interest in it.

I think about the moment I _really_ saw you for the first time. I remember my heart fluttering excitedly when you smiled at me. From then on I would catch myself daydreaming about whether you felt the same way about me when I should have been grading assignments. I think I gave more than half of my class a ‘B’ I was so distracted.

I remember the first time you kissed me. It was a Saturday afternoon. I'd never felt my heart pound so quickly as it did when your lips pressed against mine, your hand gently curled around the back of my neck to hold me close; it was perfect.

I think about our first time together, about how you traced every inch of my skin with your lips and your hands. I remember how we fit together so wonderfully. Like we had been made for one another.

I remember the time we made love in your office because we simply couldn't wait until that night to be together, our coupling hurried and quiet but no less passionate.

I remember one morning when you complained I was spending too long in the shower, before eventually joining me ‘to save time’. Instead we ended up being late for our classes.

I remember the way you'd playfully tease me for my habit of dancing in my kitchen as I cooked, you leaning against the wall and watching me as I moved.

I think about all of the nights we spent together. I think about how we would lay in your bed with our legs and fingers intertwined as we spoke in hushed tones about the future. I naively believed we'd have one together.

I was wrong.

I remember that you left without an explanation or a goodbye. I don't want to remember that, yet I can't help but do so. I remember arriving into work one morning and finding your office empty. No one knew where or why you had gone. They only that you weren't coming back.

I remember going home and staring at my cellphone as my calls to you went unanswered.

I remember wailing in grief after a week had passed without any word from you, it finally setting in that you were truly gone.

I still cling to the sweater you left behind and breathe in what lingers of your scent.

I loved you. I thought you loved me, too.

I remember every single thing about you, about us, and I think about you all the goddamn time, Shaun.

Do you ever think about me?

 


	9. Proud: Modern!Haytham Kenway x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're determined to make Haytham proud, even if you wear yourself out doing so.

Your fingers zipped across the keyboard as you typed, your eyes intently focused on the screen in front of you despite the ache that was developing behind them. A yawn forced its way past your lips causing your whole body to shudder in tiredness.

“No time to rest, got to finish,” you mumbled to yourself, pausing briefly to rub at your aching eyes before continuing to type.

The sound of the door opening and footsteps towards you momentarily caught your attention. _Haytham must have finished work early_ , you thought. _Why else would he be home now?_

“My dear, have you moved at all since I left this morning?” Your fiancé’s rich voice wrapped around you like a blanket, somewhat soothing the twinges in your shoulders and neck that were a product of your hunched position.

“I got up for food not too long ago,” you mumbled, your fingers never ceasing in their work. “What are you doing back so early?”

“What do you mean?” He sounded confused. “What time do you think it is?”

“I don't know, around two?” you said with a shrug before flicking through the textbook at your side. “Haven't exactly been gazing out of the windows today.”

“Darling, you are about five hours off,” Haytham said, his voice full of concern. “Maybe you should take a break? Especially as you've completely lost track of the time.”

You shook your head. “I don't have time for a break,” you insisted. “I need to finish this paper tonight so I can spend the next two mornings studying for my exam before I go to work.”

“You won't be much use to them if you're too exhausted to do anything,” Haytham commented. He moved behind you and gently began to run his fingers through your hair. “I happen to know that the paper you're writing isn't due for another two weeks, and that exam you're planning to study for? That's three months away, isn't it? So I'm fairly certain one night off won't hurt.”

You turned to look at him, meeting his worried gaze for a moment before casting your eyes to the ground. “I don't want to disappoint you,” you sighed, admitting your reason for working yourself to exhaustion. “You were so supportive when I said I wanted to get my degree, and I just want to make you proud of me by doing well.”

Haytham cupped your cheek and coaxed you to look up at him. “My love, I am, and forever will be, immensely proud of you for everything you have done and will do,” he said soothingly. “You couldn't possibly disappoint me, no matter what happens. Besides, you're getting your degree for yourself, not for me, so it doesn't really matter what I think, does it?”

You leaned into his touch. “I suppose you're right,” you hummed, placing your hand over his own. “I promise I'll try and take a break now and then.”

“I'm going to hold you to that,” Haytham smiled, dipping his head to kiss you. “Now, I'm going to go and draw you a bath. You can carry on working until it's ready, then you are to go and relax while I make us some dinner. Deal?”

“Deal,” you agreed, a smile of your own matching his. “You're going to make a very good husband, Haytham Kenway. I better get a ring on your finger quickly, before anyone else tries and snatches you away!”

“Good idea, the ladies are already lining up outside the door to try their luck,” he joked as he headed to the bathroom. “We'll have to do some wedding planning over dinner before it's too late!”

You laughed and closed your textbook, feeling better than you had felt all day.

 


	10. Rise and Shine: Juhani Otso Berg x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're allowed to spend your birthday sleeping if you want to, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Early) birthday gift for my twinnie <3

The sun was shining brightly through the curtains of your bedroom, waking you from your slumber. You huffed at being awoken from your dream, tugging the quilt over your head in an attempt to block out the offending light so you could go back to sleep and resume it. It had been a good one; you had been just about to accept another Oscar, this time for Best Actress.

Burrowing further into the warmth of the bed and sighing contentedly you closed your eyes, hoping drift off again.

“Good morning!” came the irritatingly cheerful voice of your boyfriend from the open doorway, scuppering your plans. “Come on, rise and shine!” He gave you a gentle nudge, earning himself an annoyed grunt. _He does this to annoy me, I know it_.

“Go away, Juhani,” you grumbled, still firmly stationed underneath the bed covers. “I'm asleep.”

You heard him chuckle. “You can't stay in bed all day, my love, especially not on your birthday.”

“Surely this is the one day I am allowed to stay in bed?” you argued, shifting so you could poke your head out from under the quilt. You were greeted with the sight of a Juhani in just his sweatpants, holding a tray. _Mmm...good morning, indeed._

“You know, if you had told me you were shirtless I'd have got up much quicker,” you hummed, pushing yourself up into a sitting position and stretching. “I'm not about to miss a chance to ogle you.”

“I'll remember that for next time,” he winked as he set the tray in his hands down onto your lap once you were settled. “Here. I made us breakfast.”

“So I see,” you observed, eyeing the plates of pancakes and glasses of mimosa in front of you as Juhani climbed back into bed. “It looks delicious.”

“Thank you,” he said, pecking a kiss on your cheek. “Happy birthday, beautiful. I love you.”

“I love you too, Juhani.”

 


	11. The blood on my shirt...uh, would you feel better if I told you it wasn't mine?: Arno

It had been three days since you had last seen Arno.

He had walked you home after a beautiful evening together, bidding you farewell with a gentle kiss and a promise to meet you in front of the Sorbonne the following afternoon. A promise he had failed to keep. After waiting for almost two hours for Arno to arrive, you had given up and headed home, tears in your eyes and your heart broken.

By the next morning, your heartbreak had morphed into anger. How _dare_ he do this to you? Had the time that the two of you had spent together over the last few weeks meant nothing to him? Determined to get an answer, you had furiously made your way to the Café Théâtre to confront Arno and demand an explanation for his ungentlemanly behaviour, only to be informed by Mme Gouze that Arno hadn’t been seen since the evening before last when he’d headed out on an ‘errand’. She had seemed unconcerned at Arno’s failure to return to the café, and wouldn’t answer any of your panicky questions about where he’d gone or what kind of errand had to be done at night, saying that you should speak to Arno for answers.

“How can I ask him if no one knows where he is?” you had cried in exasperation, only for Mme Gouze to send you home and tell you not to worry.

That had been two days ago, and the only thing you had done was worry about Arno. What if he was lying dead in a gutter somewhere? After all, there were parts of the city that were still considered unsafe once the sun had set. You’d have gone out looking for him yourself, had you possessed any of the necessary skills that were required to find someone that was missing, but instead resigned yourself to the fact that all you could do was sit at home and _wait_.

“Oh, Arno, where are you?” you said as you stood by the open window in your dimly lit bedroom, gazing out into the night as if he might answer you. But of course, he didn’t.

With a heavy sigh, you crossed the room to your bed and dropped heavily onto the mattress without bothering to change into your nightgown or extinguish the lone candle that burned. Closing your eyes you readied yourself for another night of fitful sleep.

You were just drifting off after what felt like hours of tossing and turning when you heard something that sounded like someone climbing through your window. Your eyes snapped open and you sat up abruptly, heart pounding against your ribs as you realised that someone _had_ climbed through your window.

“Please, I have no money,” you whimpered as the hooded figure stepped closer to you. “Don’t hurt me!”

“ _Ma bichette_ ,” a familiar voice said in hushed tones. “It’s me.”

A gasp escaped your lips. “Arno?!” You stared at the man in front of you, managing to make out his scarred face underneath the strange hood he was wearing. “What on earth…?”

Arno gently took your hands in his gloved ones. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t mean to startle me?!” you exclaimed, not sure whether to kiss him in relief because he was safe or to hit him in anger for making you worry. “Then why did you climb in through the bloody window in the middle of the night dressed like a...a...what _are_ you wearing, exactly?”

He was dressed in some sort of long, hooded robe that you had never seen him wear before. Underneath that you could see he was wearing some very well-tailored breeches that fitted him beautifully, and a white dress shirt...with a very concerning stain across it it. “Oh, my God, Arno! There’s blood on your shirt!”

Arno glanced down to where you were pointing and coughed slightly. “The blood on my shirt...uh, would you feel better if I told you it wasn’t mine?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Arno, just _where_ have you been for the past three days?”

He stared at you for a moment, clearly thinking about what he was going to tell you, before sighing gently and moving to sit beside you on the bed, still holding one of your hands.

“I think it’s time I told you what I do for a living…”

 

 


	12. Dessert: Shaun Hastings x Reader (NSFW!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short bit of birthday smut for our favourite sass-spouting Assassin.

_I'll be at yours in 5. See you soon xx_

I smile as I read the text. Five minutes until Shaun arrives, and all I have to do is put on my lipstick. I quickly dash into my bedroom and rummage through my makeup bag, searching for my favourite shade. I carefully apply it, checking myself out in the mirror as I do so.

“Lookin’ good,” I say to myself with a wink. “Ooh, must check on dinner! _Please_ don't be burnt!”

I head over into the kitchen, my black stilettos clacking across the tiled floor, and breathe a sigh of relief when I see that everything is cooking nicely. Good, tonight has to be _perfect_.

Shaun and I have been dating for a little while and tonight is his birthday, so I've invited him over for dinner, but I've also an ulterior motive to this; despite being a couple for a few weeks we've only engaged in a couple of heavy make out sessions, so I'm hoping tonight will also be the night we finally consummate our relationship. It's been fun fantasising about how Shaun would be in bed (and in _me_ ), but I am so very ready to experience the real thing.

I can’t resist another quick look at myself in the mirror. I’m actually quite impressed at just how _good_ I look. I’m dressed in an outfit I've bought especially for the evening; a beautiful, knee-length midnight blue dress that shows off my ample cleavage, along with my favourite killer heels. I’ve spent almost half of my paycheck on it, so it had better be worth me only being able to afford to eat soup for the next fortnight.

Moments later I hear the doorbell. After one last quick glance at my reflection to check I’ve not got lipstick on my teeth I go and answer the door. For a moment Shaun just stands there speechless, mouth slightly agape as his gaze travels down my figure.

“Alright there, birthday boy?” I tease. Oh yes, this dress was _definitely_ worth the money.

Shaun smirks at me. “I am now,” he purrs appreciatively before capturing my lips in a steamy kiss. "Are you my birthday present?"

"I might be," I reply, grinning. "Go and sit down, the food is almost ready."

He does as I ask, not before giving me another kiss. Honestly, I could spend days just kissing Shaun, and I’m sure he’d happily oblige me. It’s just a shame that things like having to go to work would get in the way.

The thought of food snaps me back to reality; dinner should be ready now, so I’d better get it plated up. I can’t leave Shaun hungry on his birthday, can I?

I can feel Shaun’s eyes on me as I walk into the room with our meal; he’s looking at me hungrily as if _I’m_ what’s on the menu, and I send out a silent message of thanks to the sales assistant at Harvey Nichols for recommending the dress.

As we eat, Shaun seems more interested in me than his food, his fingers gliding across the bare skin of my arm leaving goosebumps in their wake as he flirts with me mercilessly. He’s getting me more and more excited, and I find myself having to squeeze my thighs together just to ease the ache between my legs. _God_ , I want him.

Somehow we manage to finish our meal without tearing each others clothes off, and Shaun compliments me on how good it was.

“I’m glad you liked it,” I comment as I clear away the plates. “If you’re still hungry I’ve got some dessert in the-mmpf!”

I’m cut off mid-sentence by Shaun pulling me close and kissing me passionately. My eyes flutter closed and my arms wrap around his shoulders as he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. “Oh, _Shaun_ …”

“You know, I’d much rather have _you_ as my dessert than whatever it is you were about to suggest,” he murmurs seductively in my ear, his breath ghosting over my skin.

My legs almost turn to jelly beneath me at his words. “Really?” I manage to choke out as Shaun’s lips press eagerly against my throat. “Well, I suppose with it being your birthday I can allow that.”

I can feel him grin against my skin and I’m suddenly lifted up and placed onto the dining table. My squeak of protest is cut off by Shaun kissing me once again, his tongue sliding into my mouth against my own as his hand moves upwards on my thigh, pushing the skirt of my dress out of the way.

“Excited already, are we?” he asks teasingly, his fingers ghosting over my damp underwear. I can only manage a small noise from the back of my throat in response, my cunt throbbing with a desire to be pleasured. Shaun hooks his long fingers into the fabric of my underwear and I lift my hips slightly to help him remove it, leaving me bare before him. He kneels down in front of me, his face now level with my wet cunt as he hooks my legs over his shoulders.

“Shaun, what are-oh sweet Jesus, _fuck!_ ” I moan loudly as he licks broadly across my clit. He does it again, slower this time, drawing out another cry from my lips. Fuck, he’s good at this!

I’m panting heavily and my legs are trembling as Shaun gently spreads my folds and licks from my cunt to my clit and back again in a zig-zag pattern and my hips arch off of the table when he pushes his tongue into me.

“Oh Shaun, please don’t stop,” I whimper, gripping his hair as he closes his lips on my sensitive nub and sucks firmly. “I’m so close!”

He hums around me and the vibrations push me over the edge with a loud cry. His tongue continues to lap at me hungrily, taking all my body has to offer until it becomes too much and I have to push him away. “Oh, my God.”

Shaun stands and kisses me deeply, my essence still on his tongue. “You definitely taste better than any birthday cake,” he hums, pressing his forehead to mine, and I can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Nice to know,” I say, my voice still a little shaky. “So, are you going to unwrap the rest of your present?” I run my fingers across the top of my dress as a hint.

“You’re damn right I am,” he growls, picking me up as I wrap my legs around him. “I’m going to spend all night thoroughly enjoying my ‘present’. Now, where’s your bedroom?”

 


End file.
